The Christian State

There's been lots of chat on Facebook and other media about the issue of prayers in Council meetings here in the UK. Eric Pickles, the larger than life MP responsible for local government, has promised swift action to change the law - in order to uphold the righ,t in a 'Christian Nation', for prayers to be part of the formal business of council meetings. Thinking Allowed thinks we have gone mad.

The US has a legal separation of state and church, but a higher proportion of 'christians'. The Britain we allude to as having a 'christian' identity is not the Britain of today. We have become, are becoming multi-cultural. In the 'golden age' of Britain being a 'Christian' nation, we executed those not of our faith, ruthlessly exported our brand of Christianity and held people in the grip of a legalistic piety that simply covered over the same old sins. (As well as doing some pretty amazing stuff...)

The truth is that in those halcyon days, from the outside we probably looked as frighteningly draconian as some extremist Muslim states do to us today.... Over time of course, all regimes tend towards a broader, softer approach before being subsumed into the next thing. It's the history of society.

Jesus said that his kingdom was not 'of this world'. He avoided the political power that was offered to him - in the end Judas betrayed him as a means of provoking him to take it up. Peter wanted to start the revolution but Jesus told him 'put away your sword'. Now that's not to say that Christians should avoid politics - far from it, we need Christians in every walk of life, every sphere of influence. But it is to say that Biblically, the means of furthering the gospel, building the kingdom is not rooted in state or political endeavour.

And so to the vexed question of prayers in council meetings (or 'acts of Christian worship' in school assemblies for that matter). I'm all for groups of Christians, who feel called to be in politics or teaching (and for those of us who benefit from these professions), to be praying regularly and fervently for those directly involved. But given the nature of Britain now, how can we possibly impose these practices on a society that is at best bemused and at worst antagonised by them? Are we really saying 'you are welcome here and you are free to practice your religion, but actually, we are a Christian nation and as a society we practice Christian norms which you must respect and to which you must adhere'? In short you are welcome provided you become like us or if you won't, then hide-away so you don't interfere with our 'Britishness'.

In practice this means that we welcome your presence, want you to integrate rather than form a ghetto. But by integrate we mean become aligned to our definition of Britishness, which includes our Christian heritage. So even though the majority of councillors are not practicing Christians, as part of the formal business of politics, we will pray to a God we barely understand and in whom we mostly disbelieve. You Muslims (for example) who have a very clear view of your god and practice your religion 'religiously' must take part in this strange ritual or absent yourself from it.

The truth is most British people aren't 'British' by these definitions. Most Brits wouldn't pass the citizenship test that we require aspiring Brits to take. So why, as Christians, do we put our trust in these archaic descriptions of who we are? Why do we think that losing the legal right to pray in a poitical forum is putting the furtherance of the gospel at risk? The battle to establish the kingdom is not synonymous with keeping Britain  'British' - the latter was lost decades ago (if it was ever a battle) and the former remains ours to win.

The reason, after 2,000 years that Britain is not a 'Christian' nation has nothing to do with the vagaries of politics. It has everything to do with the fact that we don't love God. We love self, we love our friends, our family, our church. We love our jobs, our homes, our holidays, our possessions. We love our lives. We love our ministries. we love the little successes when one or two come to Christ through an alpha course or outreach programme. But we don't love God.

We don't love God enough to give up our lives, our homes, our security, our jobs. We don't love God enough to give up our rights, our insularity, our freedom. We don't love God enough to overcome the embarassment of talking about him or the fear of rejection if we offer to pray for someone. We don't love God.

And we don't love God because we don't understand forgiveness. 'He who is forgiven much, loves much'. As we approach Lent, why don't we spend less time worrying about the impact external decisions have on the gospel and more time before God? Time inviting His Spirit to convince us of sin, that we might know afresh the depth of our need for him and the wonder of his love for us.

Let's take a fast from being British, from insularity, from fear. Let's feast on telling others, demonstrating to everyone, the love of God. That's what church is about.